That October stole my heart
When we drank pumpkin beer and smoked apple tobacco around the kitchen table of a now foreign Ghost

It's funny
No -
It's tragic
That a single whistle pulls me back into that basement
On a musty couch, hidden under men's clothing

I am wearing pink shorts
And you left an empty house to see me

I am offering you a beer and of course, you don't accept it
And we listened to the greatest songs I've ever heard

Something about the acoustics found in a room with burn marks and my best friend lying on the carpet

I am not sure if I am in love with you

I am in love with the memory of that night